


jump in the deep end

by istajmaal



Series: ass-shy!louis [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Cock Slapping, Daddy Kink, Dom Louis, Facials, M/M, Paddling, Rimming, Sub Harry, harry's love of facials saves the day, louis's relationship with his ass is tainted by an accidental facial, this fic is not about swimming it's about louis tomlinson's asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istajmaal/pseuds/istajmaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself—what if I'm not clean enough, what if Harry hates it, what if Harry pushes me away—but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>or, Louis's arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jump in the deep end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoadedGunn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoadedGunn/gifts).



> ren got an anon about low prostates approximately seventy years ago, then she went on hiatus and i missed her and here we are
> 
>  **warning** for bdsm (check the tags!), some mild out-of-body dissociativeness, mildly traumatic first sexual experiences, excessive semen-related sappiness

The first time Louis comes in the presence of another human being, he nuts all over the guy’s face. 

Louis is seventeen and deserves at least some credit, he thinks, for not coming as soon as the anonymous older friend of Stan’s touches his dick at all. Not that he hasn’t wanked himself enough to build up a respectable amount of stamina, but—but this is what he’s wanted for _so long_ , and maybe he didn’t always picture it happening in the walk-in closet of Stan’s parent’s bedroom, but the thick hardness pressing against his thigh through the guy’s jeans and the feeling of a stranger’s hand around his cock have featured so prominently in his fantasies until now that he feels close to coming from the get-go.

“You’re such a fucking twink,” the guy breathes in his ear. Before Louis gets the chance to shut him up the guy sinks to his knees in front of Louis, which is—fucking _incredible_ , this is a _man_ with _stubble_ and a _full-time job_ and he’s on his _knees_ in front of _Louis_ , it’s such an incredible rush but that isn’t when Louis nuts it, either. It’s not even when the man takes the tip of Louis’s cock into his mouth, making Louis’s knees shake, or when he bobs his head halfway down Louis’s cock before pulling off and sucking on his finger seductively. Louis feels a little faint through all of that, but it’s when the guy mutters _you’re gonna love this_ and wedges his finger between Louis’s arse cheeks that Louis enters the real danger zone.

“Fuck,” Louis says—he’s tried this out on his own before, but he’s never gotten very far because—“ _fuck._ ” The tip of the guy’s finger is barely inside him but Louis feels like he’s touched a button that sends fireworks through his whole body, and then he _presses down_ and Louis is gone, he can’t help it at all, he’s coming with absolutely no warning, shooting hot white strands all over the stranger’s face, onto his lips and—Louis’s heart sinks—into his mess of stubble.

There’s a moment of absolute silence when it’s over. The guy stares at him and Louis’s mortification is held in suspended motion. Maybe, if he could take back the last thirty seconds, maybe they could be all right.

Then the guy spits on Louis’s shoes.

“That’s fucking disgusting, mate,” the guy said. He wipes Louis’s come off his beard as best he can and smears it on Louis’s jeans. He leaves the closet before Louis has a chance to explain (or _try_ to, because what is there to say, really?) or even make it up to him with his own lips around the bearded guy’s cock.

That the latter is a disappointment pretty much confirms Louis’s homosexuality in his own mind, which had been half the point of hooking up with a strange man in the first place, so at least something positive comes out of the experience. If his discovery of his sexual identity lends a bit of a regretful tinge to his new resolve never to let anyone into his arse again… well, it is what it is. 

###

Louis learns later, after a few hesitant fingerings in the shower and many more enthusiastic sessions fingering the boys he meets on Bebo, that he has an unusually easy-to-find prostate. It sits so low in his anal canal that he barely has to prod his fingertip into his puckered hole before he’s moaning uncontrollably and coming all over the shower wall. He spends an hour or so late one night frantically googling to find out if that means he has cancer or something, but as far as he can tell, it poses no medical risk. Except, that is, the risk that he might actually die of embarrassment if he busts a nut all over somebody’s face again after barely being touched.

Fortunately, even as often as his arse gets groped in clubs, Louis has come up with a few bedroom activities that don’t require anyone to touch his arse at all. He meets Harry at a workshop held in the BDSM dungeon closest to his uni: Rope Suspension for Experienced Practitioners. Even as fast as Louis falls in bed with him—and they don’t even stick around for the free doughnuts after the workshop—between Harry’s earnest eyes and his big clumsy hands dropping rope everywhere and his pink lips perpetually curved into a dimply smile, Louis falls in love with him even faster. Eight months later, they’re already christening their new flat.

The hard smack of a paddle against Harry’s arse is all the more satisfying now that Louis doesn’t need to worry about people overhearing in the next room. “How many is that, love?" Louis asks, stroking the cool, dark wood of the paddle as Harry wiggles his bruised arse and arches it back, asking for more.

"Sixty.” Harry gasps and moans as Louis presses his bare hand down onto the red skin, turning it momentarily white around his splayed fingers. Harry, too, has been exceptionally vocal today, letting out a nonstop string of whimpers ever since Louis bent him over the arm of the new loveseat. His whine goes up a notch as Louis withdraws his hand, his head hung low and his breathing shallow but steady. “Thank you, Daddy,” he says in a voice just over a whisper.

"How many more?" Louis pets Harry’s hip for a moment before resuming position, the paddle barely brushing Harry’s bruised cheeks.

"Nine." Harry swallows and stretches his legs slightly. He looks at Louis over his shoulder with his swollen lip bitten between his teeth. "Nine, please, Daddy."

"Yes, love." Louis can’t help it—he fans out his hand again and places it lightly over Harry's arse, even redder to the touch, his palm cupping around the slight curve of Harry's cheek. He digs his fingers into the soft, hot flesh, admiring the way Harry whimpers and throws his head back, inviting Louis to place a soft kiss on his crown.

Inhaling the cinnamon scent of Harry's hair and brushing his lips against Harry's soft curls has Louis stepping closer against him instinctively, his hand trailing up to Harry's hip and gripping easily. His cock brushes up against Harry's tender arse through his briefs and he forgets about the paddle in his hands for a moment until he nearly drops it. _Focus_.

"Nine more," Louis says, kissing the back of Harry's neck and squeezing his hip before stepping back. "Nine more until you get your reward, baby." Harry groans but nods. His head sinks down to his forearms again while Louis nudges his knees farther apart with the paddle, until Harry's back in form, his arse presenting itself perfectly to Louis.

Louis lines up his feet and taps Harry’s arse lightly with the paddle twice, so that Harry starts to whine _Daddy,_ but then Louis spanks him as hard as ever and Harry yelps, sticking his arse out even farther so that Louis can hit him again and again, turning his red cheeks even darker. Louis pauses after six, pushing the wood against Harry’s arse and working his cheeks with it. Harry keens loudly and chokes out, “Thank you,” his voice almost totally gone.

"Thank _you_ , baby." Louis lays another swing into Harry and his back muscles ripple, his knuckles turning white. "Just perfect for me, darling. Love you so much."

"Love— _ahhhhh_ —you,” Harry sputters out as Louis smacks him with the paddle again. Louis pauses again for a moment, stepping back a little to admire his handiwork and Harry’s beautiful, thick cock hanging between his legs, until Harry darts a glance over his shoulder and says in a small voice, “Daddy... please."

Louis steps back closer to him and rubs his shoulder with one hand. Harry relaxes immediately, the slight tension in his back melting under Louis’s touch. “How many is that, kitten?"

"Sixty-eight.” Harry’s voice cracks on the last syllable as Louis kneads his arse with his hand/ 

"And how many do you need?" 

"Sixty-nine, Daddy.” Louis gives Harry a few light taps with his hand and Harry shakes his head furiously, dropping his head down and moaning, “Please, god, _please_ , need--"

"Tell me what you need, baby." 

"Hit me." Harry chokes on his words as Louis’s finger trails down the cleft of his arse, just barely brushing over his hole, still slick from when Louis fucked him earlier with a hand over his mouth while Zayn and Niall were still moving boxes. Harry presses back, trying to work his arse onto Louis’s finger, but Louis pulls away. “ _Please_ —Daddy, need it."

"Why, baby?" Louis puts a hand on Harry’s flaming-hot right cheek to steady him, the paddle still gripped in his hand, then teases his rim with his dry finger. “Tell me what you want after."

" _Daddy_." Harry whimpers but doesn’t move, apart from his balls tightening. "Wanna--wanna please you, Daddy, just. Please."

Louis thrusts his finger into Harry gently, working it through the tight rings of muscle and just barely grazing his prostate. Harry stays still, good, accepting whatever Louis gives him with nothing more than a gentle whine. “Is that all you want, baby?” Louis prompts. He twists his finger inside Harry, rubbing his spot. “Or do you want Daddy's mouth on you, too?"

" _Please_." Harry bucks his hips, dragging the leaking head of his cock all over their brand new couch. He stills again after, but his voice becomes higher and needier than ever. "Daddy, hit me, please, _please_ \--"

The last hit with the paddle comes while Harry’s pleading for it, as hard as Louis can muster, having pulled his finger out of Harry’s hole just a second before. It lets out a _smack_ that’s almost as satisfying as Harry’s wail as his little hole clenches visibly around nothing. Harry’s knees buckle, his cock presses down against the arm of the couch and he fucks his hips into it desperately, like humping the couch is going to bring him any relief.

"So good, baby." Louis sets the paddle down quickly and gets both his hands on Harry, kneeling beside him and kissing his face. Harry stops working his hips and blushes, avoiding Louis’s eye for a minute. “Pleased me so much, can't believe how beautiful you are." 

Harry’s face breaks into a slightly embarrassed smile as Louis soothes over his arse with his hand. “Mmmmm.” Harry closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the couch cushion, his thick curls falling beautifully around his face. He’s so beautiful and open for his daddy that Louis has to look away and steady himself.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Louis pulls Harry up, his boy mostly sated and useless in his arms. “Time for your reward, baby.”

Harry hums, kissing Louis’s neck as Louis leads him with a strong arm around his waist to their bed, crisp white sheets in a sea of unpacked boxes. Louis squeezes his pert arse cheeks once more before Harry collapses back onto the bed. He whimpers as his sore arse makes contact with the mattress, scoots himself back, and spreads his long legs out obscenely in invitation.

Louis takes him in for a moment: the soft, curvy teenager he met a few months ago has started to chisel into a long, muscled _man_ , bulging biceps and inked skin and hard, thick cock, but he still blinks up at Louis in that innocent, trusting way that makes Louis shrug off his briefs and get a hand around his aching cock as fast as possible.

“Gonna make you feel so good, princess.” Louis knees onto the bed and Harry sighs, his head falling back onto a pillow as Louis’s hand skirts over his stomach. He kisses Harry on the temple once before turning, slotting into the familiar position of his cock hanging over Harry’s face while he steadies his hands on Harry’s hips and licks his lips, eyeing Harry’s hardness.

" _Daddy_." Harry cranes his neck to lick at the underside of Louis’s cock and Louis shudders. For all that Harry loves this, being towered over and overwhelmed with his mouth full and his cock wet, Louis might love it just as much. He grabs the base of Harry’s cock and he’s about ready to suck him in deep—he can practically taste the precome when Harry continues, in a tone that gives Louis pause, “Can I--please--"

Louis ducks his head down and looks at Harry in the space between their bellies. “What is it, baby?" 

Harry looks down at Louis sheepishly before darting his eyes up to Louis’s arse. “Wanna taste you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Please."

Louis frowns. “’Course you can, love." _That’s kind of the point_ , he almost jokes, but his boy seems fragile right now and he doesn’t know why.

"No, I mean--" Harry bites his lip and settles his hands against the backs of Louis’s thighs. “Wanna eat you out, Daddy."

Louis freezes.

Harry backtracks immediately. “M’sorry,” he says quickly. He shakes his head and licks the tip of Louis’s cock. “I mean—just wanna please you, I mean.” 

It’s not that Louis hasn’t let Harry touch his arse once in the months they’ve been together. In fact, he’d actually gotten Harry to paddle him a few times once, just so he would have more of an idea what it was like for him, which is as close as _anyone_ has gotten to his arse without being slapped away since That Time. Harry has never questioned his arsephobia—he’s always been more than happy to let Louis be the one to poke around in _his_ arse—in fact, he’s never asked him about it at all. Harry so rarely asks Louis for _anything_ sexually, happy just to take and take whatever Louis wants to give him, that Louis feels a rush of affection as Harry looks back down at him, spit dribbling down his chin and smiling hesitantly.

“You want to kiss my arse, Harry?”

Harry doesn’t breathe for a moment, then rushes out the word _please_. Harry closes his eyes and drops his head back down onto the pillow, like the very idea is almost too much for him to handle. “ _Please_." 

Louis has come on Harry’s face _dozens_ of times, and Harry’s thanked him profusely for it every time, but Louis still can’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness as he flashes back to that scene that still haunts his wet nightmares. But then—Harry leans up and sucks Louis’s cockhead into his mouth hard, like he’s desperate for it. Louis looks up and sees a rainbow teddy bear from Harry’s childhood sitting on a pile of Louis’s winter blankets, and he knows at that moment that there’s nothing his body could do that would make Harry leave now.

“All right,” Louis says softly. He hesitates for another moment as his cock pops out of the wet heat of Harry’s mouth, his arse clenching like it knows what’s coming. Louis shifts his knees a little, then pushes himself up onto his knees and tries to angle himself right over Harry’s face. _God_. Harry’s hands grip his thighs tightly, his heels digging into the bed like he’s so excited he can’t stop himself. Louis glances down at Harry over his back, and then— _fuck,_ Harry licks his lips. He looks so outrageously _happy_ that Louis’s arse is centimeters away from smothering him that any second thoughts Louis might have are erased. 

Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself— _what if I'm not clean enough what if Harry hates it what if Harry pushes me away_ —but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s. 

With their hands entwined, Louis relaxes enough to begin to enjoy the overwhelming—he wouldn’t even call it pleasure, yet, it’s just pure _sensation_ pouring over him as Harry licks his rim, nudging his tongue little by little into Louis’s tight hole. Louis gets his other hand around his cock, just so that he feels less _useless_ while Harry’s mouth works over him, his lips sucking around Louis’s rim while his tongue digs deeper, and he starts to feel like he _likes_ this, Harry’s little hums and eagerness to please making Louis’s veins run with pleasure almost in spite of himself. His cock is hard under his hand and he figures with a few minutes of jerking himself off, he could even come like this, come with something in his arse like he hasn’t in years.

Just then, Harry’s tongue pokes a little deeper inside Louis and he swears he sees _stars_.

 _Fuck_ , Louis thinks, _fuck fuck fu_ —“ck,” he realizes he’s speaking out loud, his balance shaken as he steadies himself against Harry’s chest with both hands, “Harry, _fuck_.” Harry withdraws his head a fraction of an inch and Louis moans, thrusting his arse back against Harry’s face and adding, “ _Please_.”

Louis’s never lost control like this during a scene with Harry—in fact, there’s a good chance he’s never lost control like this _ever,_ at least not since— _that time_. A very distant part of his mind is freaking out a bit about that, but maintaining his dom persona goes _way_ down on his list of priorities as Harry’s _tongue_ laps over his _prostate_ in small, gentle licks that are going to drive him _crazy._ It’s so _Harry_ to be like this, to find the one thing that makes Louis feel so good it rips his mind right out of the scene he’d been elaborately planning for Harry all day, and to do it so—slowly, insistently, _innocently_. There’s probably no one else in the world who could make sticking a tongue inside an asshole feel cherubic, but Harry Styles is one of a kind and also the love of Louis’s life, probably, so he doesn’t think twice (he doesn’t think at _all_ , really) before he says _please_ again, his voice shaking as the pleasure shooting through his body moves from incredible to _outrageous_ as Harry moans with his tongue pressed right against the center of Louis’s universe.

Louis’s so far gone he doesn’t even feel it as he comes, only aware of his ass pulsing hard and long around Harry’s tongue and the feeling that his body might actually max out on the pleasure it can receive, like he’s shaking so hard to let out the white-hot energy shooting through every nerve in his body because if he didn’t let it out somehow he would burst into flames. Harry fucks Louis with his tongue and it’s so fucking _good_ that Louis falls over, and he only feels his come coating Harry’s stomach when he steadies his hand there, smearing it over Harry’s hip.

Harry doesn’t stop, fucking his tongue into Louis’s arse even as he keeps whimpering quietly, his own untouched cock so hard that Louis’s own twitches in sympathy, oversensitive but not flagging. 

“Baby.” Enough of Louis’s semblance of mind returns to let him climb off Harry’s face, wary of overwhelming him. “You okay, baby?” 

Harry’s eyes are glazed over for a minute, before he blinks into focus and licks his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, was that—?”

“Perfect, baby.” Louis exhales slowly and kisses Harry between the eyes. “You made Daddy feel so, so good, I’m so proud of you, love.”

Harry preens. His face is all wet with spit and his lips are swollen and red, just how Louis loves them best. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes his eyes and tilts his head up for Louis to smooth a hand down his cheek.

“Got you all messy, didn’t I?” Louis says. Harry shudders a little and nods without opening his eyes, still leaning into Louis’s touch on his face. “Know you like that, baby.”

“Do,” Harry says, in his small, kittenish subby voice. He swallows and looks up at Louis, his eyes a little wet with tears. “I do, so much.”

“I’m so proud, baby.” Louis smiles and rubs his thumb over Harry’s spit-slick lips. “Know you like that too.”

“The most.” Harry stares up at Louis like he’s the center of his world, like he’s barely even aware of his cock sticking up straight and hard and practically purple between his legs. “Please, Daddy, just wanna make you feel good.” 

“You do, baby, better than anyone.” Louis kisses Harry’s forehead again. “Got an idea, something you can do for me that I think you’re gonna like. Do you wanna try, baby?”

Harry nods quickly. As Louis explains the idea, Harry’s eyes widen. He keeps chewing on his already-swollen lip and nodding over and over again, until Louis’s done and he just says _yes, yes, please, yes_ until Louis shuts him up again with his arse in his face.

Not that Harry’s quiet about his delight in eating Louis’s arse. He’s moaning loudly, rubbing his face back and forth between Louis’s cheeks as he licks over Louis’s stretched hole, and his moans go down an octave when Louis runs his tongue over the sticky, leaking slit of his cock.

Louis swallows the precome pooled at the tip of Harry’s cock easily, running his tongue down his rock-hard shaft to collect what had dribbled down it. Harry goes wild with it, his legs spreading and hips bucking out of control, like he’s begging for Louis’s finger inside him, for _anything_ , but that isn’t what this is about.

Harry’s fingers grip hard into Louis’s arse cheeks, spreading them greedily so he can lap inside him farther and farther until he’s hitting Louis’s prostate constantly, going in and out, while Louis suckles on the head of his cock, coaxing more and more precome out of it until Harry’s mewling and gasping for breath, “Daddy, Daddy, gonna—“

Louis pulls back and slaps Harry’s cock hard with the back of his hand. “No, you won’t.”

Harry’s head falls back against the mattress with a soft thud and a groan. Louis slaps his cock again and Harry’s toes curl but he keens and grapples at Louis’s thighs. “Tell me you’re not going to come, Harry.” 

“Won’t,” Harry says, his words coming out slurred like he’s drunk, “I won’t come.” Louis waits. When Harry doesn’t add anything else, he slaps his cock again, lightly this time, but still enough for it to bob back and forth painfully. “ _Daddy_ ,” Harry chokes out. “Won’t come, _Daddy_ , promise I won’t.”

Louis leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of Hary’s dick. “Know you won’t, my good boy.” He bobs his head down and takes half of Harry into his mouth at once. Harry lets out a broken sob before Louis pulls back and swirls his tongue around the head of Harry’s cock. “You’re gonna make _me_ come, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” Harry’s knuckles go white as he digs his fingers hard into Louis’s thighs. “Please, let me—“

Louis shuts him up with his arse in his face again, which Harry accepts with a grateful moan that sends spark shooting all the way down to Louis’s toes, _fuck_. Louis takes Harry’s cock into his mouth, and it’s just—it’s _overwhelming._ Harry is assaulting all his senses: Harry’s hardness heavy on his tongue nearly choking him, the musky scent of Harry overloading his mind, Harry’s smooth, freshly-shaven balls hanging in front of him, Harry’s strong thighs under his hands supporting him, Harry’s face nuzzling into his arse like he’s been waiting his whole life—at least, the last eight months of it—to be there, Harry’s hands squeezing Louis’s arse like he can’t get enough, Harry’s tongue nudging _inside Louis’s arse_ and there it is again, Harry on his prostate, Harry pulsing white-hot pleasure through Louis’s entire body, Harry pouring through Louis like molten lava, Harry gathering in the pit of Louis’s stomach like a storm while Harry’s tongue fucks in and out of him like he doesn’t even need to breathe.

 _Louis_ can’t breathe—he pulls off Harry’s cock, and with almost no time to spare, shifts back so that his arse is out of Harry’s reach, so that his cock is hanging hard and ready to burst over Harry’s face. Harry mouths at the tip of Louis’s cock helplessly, bumping it against his nose in his eagerness to get a taste, like having his whole face jammed into Louis’s _arse_ wasn’t even enough for him, and that’s what has Louis coming all over Harry’s pink cheeks and pinker lips in long white stripes, more than he could ever imagine coming when his cock hasn’t even gone down from the last time.

“Did so well, baby,” is the first thing that comes out of Louis’s mouth—even before _fucking hell_ , though that comes soon after, as Louis turns and puts a hand automatically on Harry’s cheek, rubbing his come into Harry’s blush while Harry keens and smiles dopily. “Love you so much.” He can’t _help_ praising Harry—it comes more naturally to him than anything else, telling his beautiful come-covered boy that he thinks the world of him. 

The plan was for Louis to come a third time, absolutely coating Harry with come without letting _him_ come, but… Harry looks so satisfied even with his cock so hard it must hurt, and Louis is overwhelmed with both affection and the desire to suck his boy’s brain out through his cock. Louis’s own cock might chop itself off in protest if he tried to come again, anyway, he’s so oversensitive, so he nods to himself decisively, wipes his come-covered hand down Harry’s torso, down from his butterfly to between his laurels, then takes the base of his cock in hand and suckles sweet and hard over the head, bubbling with still more pearls of precome.

“ _Daddy_ —“ Harry gasps and throws back his head, arching his back and gripping the sheets hard. Louis sucks him down farther, lips wrapped so tightly around him that he can feel Harry’s hammering pulse. “Daddy, _Lou_ , I can’t, _can’t_ —“

Louis doesn’t stop. He slides his head down enough so that Harry’s cock nudges the back of his throat. Harry _sobs_ and throws his arm over his face, thighs trembling even as Louis quickly pulls off his cock. “You can, baby.” Harry peeks out from under his arm. Louis holds his gaze steadily as he gets a firm grip on Harry’s cock and starts to jerk him off, quick and rough, flicking the head just how Harry likes. “Want you to come all over my face, love, you were so good. You deserve it.”

Harry cries actual tears then, he’s got milky white come sticking to his eyelashes and tears running down his cheeks as he says _thank you daddy thank you daddy daddy daddy_ while Louis rubs Harry’s cock over his lips. He doesn’t pull his eyes off Harry’s face even when Harry throws his head back and comes over Louis’s lips and all the way up to his cheekbones, shuddering through his release like his body doesn’t know how to feel this good.

Louis crawls back up Harry’s body and presses their foreheads together, lacing his fingers through Harry’s and breathing hard against his mouth, trying to say _I’m here_ while Harry’s come drips from his lips to Harry. Louis feels lighter than he has in ages, like there was some kind of psychic knot up his arse for years that Harry has finally helped release. That’s what they’re best at, really: tying up and letting go. When Harry blinks back into focus after his orgasm, he smiles, wraps his arms around Louis’s neck, and kisses him, tasting his own come on Louis’s lips.

“Thank you,” Harry whispers again, and Louis kisses him back, harder, laving his tongue over his come on Harry’s lower lip as if to say _no, thank_ you _._

Louis falls to his side, turning Harry to face him. They lie like that for ages, both covered in spit and come, nuzzling against each other, the come on their faces mingling and hardening and sticking them together. They’re disgusting, really, in more ways than one. But here, in their own flat, they can be disgusting together.

**Author's Note:**

> [~*~follow for more daddy louis getting his ass played with~*~](http://socomicallygay.tumblr.com/)


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